Page 2 of Between These Broken Hearts (Cursed Stars #2)
She purses her lips. “The Eloran Sword of Fire can be used to destroy anything or anyone if she who wields it is deemed worthy.”
“Deemed worthy by whom?”
“By the sword, of course.”
“If I’m deemed worthy, it could kill Mordeus? And it could take me to him?”
“If you’re deemed worthy, it could kill anyone and take you anywhere .” She shakes her head. “But you’re asking the wrong questions.”
I don’t have time to argue with her. She doesn’t understand. I force myself to set down my mug—no matter how delicious it
is, I have more important things to do than linger over a treat. I push out of bed. “I need to go.”
She harrumphs. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
I wipe a hand over my face and shake my head. “I’m sorry. Thank you for letting me sleep here.”
“And for the drink?”
I nod and force a smile. I slept in this female’s house without permission. The least I can do is show a little gratitude.
“Yes, thank you for the melted chocolate. It was truly delicious.”
She rolls her eyes. “Delicious? You didn’t notice anything else?” When I don’t immediately understand, she gives a heavy sigh.
“Did you notice that you now have the strength to stand when before you couldn’t even open your eyes?”
I frown at the mug and then toward the dark window. “The drink did that? I thought nightfall was bringing my strength back.”
She cocks her head to the side. “You have no idea just how insidious that ring is, do you? You’ve slept day and night, too
weak to know time is passing you by.”
I tug at the ring, not that it matters. It won’t budge. I’d hoped that the weakness would abate in the nighttime hours, but if what she’s telling me is true— “Do you have more of this? If I don’t get what I need tonight?”
“I don’t exactly keep it on hand, no.”
“Do you have the recipe? Where can I find the ingredients?”
“The recipe doesn’t have to be so precise. I just added the chocolate and spices to make it more enjoyable for you.” She shrugs.
“The forest is the easiest place to find what you need. If you’re not too squeamish.”
“Too squeamish for what?”
Her eyes light up, and when she smiles, the chocolatey drink is smeared across her teeth. “To drain the beating heart of an
innocent magical creature.”
Nausea surges into my throat and this time it has nothing to do with the ring. My mug holds the dregs of the concoction. “Blood?
You had me drink blood without telling me?” Moments ago I was ready to lick the cup clean. Now I want to retch the contents
up and onto the floor.
“You feel better, don’t you?”
“I...” I close my eyes and focus on my breath until the nausea settles. “I didn’t know I was drinking blood.”
“You eat meat. I don’t see the difference.”
“The difference is that this is disgusting.”
“You didn’t seem to think so before.” She huffs. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll do what needs done when the time comes.”
“I thought you weren’t a seer.”
“I’m not. I’m an optimist.”
I hang my head and draw in a long breath. Yes, if the alternative is letting Mordeus use me to destroy my sister’s court, I would do worse than drink blood. “What kind of magical creature?”
Her grin is nearly feral. “Have you ever heard of the wolpertinger?” She waves a hand and an image appears in the air between
us. The creature looks a bit like a large bunny, complete with soft fur and floppy ears, but tiny little antlers sit on the
crown of its head and thin, gossamer wings sprout from behind its front legs.
I shake my head. “It’s practically defenseless.” A shiver of revulsion shudders through me as I try to imagine drinking blood
from the tiny creature’s heart. “I don’t think I can.”
“You killed dozens of Mordeus’s faithful for vengeance alone.”
My back stiffens. “They weren’t innocent.”
“You found a way to justify their deaths and you’ll find a way to justify this. If you want to survive, that is. Remember,
you need not just the blood, but its life —you must take so much blood that you stop the creature’s beating heart. For the longest-lasting effects, make sure you drink
the blood while it’s fresh. The magic fades the longer it’s separated from its life source.”
I stare at the ring and think of Skylar’s suggestion from the night before I left Ironmoore—that if all else failed, we rid
me of the ring by cutting off my finger. I would be free of it and wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping for days on end.
What would be the harm in a missing digit when I’m already so scarred and the days ahead of me are so few?
But I need the ring. I need it to get into Feegus Keep, and I need it to find the sword. Surely Mordeus wouldn’t let an item
so powerful go unprotected. I can’t conceivably fight my way inside. I need to be the Enchanting Lady and I can’t be her without this cursed ring.
The irony doesn’t escape me. I traded everything for this ring—not only my sister’s most sacred magical book but every day
of my life once I turn eighteen. Now the ring is exactly the tool I need to find the sword that can get me to Mordeus and
kill him once and for all, while simultaneously being the very thing that has kept me too ill to do more than sleep.
I will get what I need tonight. If all goes well, I’ll find the Sword of Fire and be able to confront Mordeus before the sun
rises. Once he’s taken care of, I can figure out what’s next.
I can’t let myself think about that now. I traded everything for vengeance, and I can’t allow my mind to drift to what happens
when there’s no more left to take.
“Feegus Keep,” I say, “it’s near here?”
“You’re still asking the wrong questions.”
“Please.”
She lifts her chin. “Chase the moon through the woods and beyond the lake. You won’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. She nods and turns to leave the room.
I glance down at myself and realize the pants and boots that I was wearing when I fled Kendrick and his friends are already
scuffed with soot, like I’ve crawled through a fire-ravaged forest. “How long was I sleeping?” I ask her back.
She peers at me over her shoulder and arches a wispy gray brow. “Over eight months.”
Everything inside me recoils in denial. “That would mean my birthday’s in—”
“Eleven days.”